


If you don’t own the hotel

by FanceKnight



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (psht truth is I forgot), A backstory for Mitaka of sorts, Drugs, Gen, ISB, If you’re thinking, Killersticks, Mitaka gets put in bad situations, The ISB doesn’t exist anymore, but gets out by himself, illegal drugs, i’m so proud of him, they’re the reason this is rated mature, welp, you’re wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:28:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25391626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanceKnight/pseuds/FanceKnight
Summary: As top-of-his-class-graduate, Mitaka should have a guaranteed spot on a Stardestroyer. But what if something gets in between him and his goals? Or rather someone?
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 5
Collections: Dopheld Mitaka Christmas In July 2020





	1. The story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darktensh17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darktensh17/gifts).



Mitaka couldn’t believe his eyes. Five years of his effort and hard work and now he was close to it accounting to nothing? He had applied to the Finalizer’s Bridge Crew weapon position as soon as he heard it was available. With his graduation at the top of his class, that spot was guaranteed to be his.

But then that newbie came along. The rich guy with a father in politics and a mother already a high-ranking commander too had good chances at the spot, albeit it being due to different reasons. Mitaka couldn’t accept that. He knew that spot was his first step upward the ranks, it placed him on the first orders flagship and in close proximity to the current highest ranking officer, General Hux. He needed that spot more than anything else. And now Junior Lieutenant Rafkin was going to take it away from him.

Something needed to be done. At the end of next week the decision of who got the position was going to be released. He had until then to make sure there was no doubt his name would stand on that publication.

But he couldn’t just kill the Lieutenant. It would be obvious it was him then. He had to be more subtle than that. Unfortunately he did not have much time left and was thus not able to wait for a perfect opportunity. An ok opportunity would have to do.

An ok opportunity presented itself to him five days before the decision. Junior Lieutenant Rafkin was holding a party to prematurely celebrate his ‚new position‘.

_Entitled prick._

Mitaka couldn’t attend the party, of course. He was not invited and not being there would provide him an additional alibi, just in case someone asked. That answered the when. Now onto the how.

Rafkin’s family had recently been dealing with a lot of accusations on illegal drug-shipping. That was something Mitaka could work with. After some consideration, he settled on killersticks. They were going to ensure Rafkin’s downfall both legally and health-wise. On one hand Ixetal Cilona - the main component of killersticks - was easily provable in human blood, even over a week after consumption. It had to become apparent on Rafkin’s examination before his departure. On the other hand it was not just highly addictive, but also incredibly deadly. One way or another, Mitaka was going to catapult Rafkin out of this race by far.

Mitaka halted. How was he going to get Rafkin to consume the substance? Killersticks had the advantage of being able to be consumed in almost every possible way. One could drink it, eat it, inhale it and even directly inject it into their bloodstream.

Injection would going to be mostly impossible, as Rafkin would have to agree to that. Inhalation would be a bit easier but Mitaka needed to be directly present at the moment of consumption and therefore risk that he accidentally consumes it too. He would have to settle for eating/drinking.

Dopheld smiled to himself. Now he only needed the sticks and he would be all set and ready to go.

Acquiring the sticks should have been a lot harder than it turned out to be. Dopheld had been stationed on a relatively small space station after his graduation but had to temporarily move planet side for the application and its following interviews. There were a lot more questionable pubs on the ground than up high above. As long as he didn’t look too much like First Order while being in one, he was bound to be offered one.

The guy talking to him actually looked a little surprised as Dopheld accepted his offer. The guy looked even more confused as Dopheld bought his entire stock. Mitaka needed as much of the substance as possible to account for unforeseen accidents. The stack ended up costing him the salary of almost an entire year but it was going to be worth it, he told himself.

_If things go right, I’ll be making all of this in less than a month soon._

Back at home, he poured the contents of all the little flasks into one box, making them easier to transport. With everything in place Mitaka just had to wait for the party to begin.

Murdering someone you knew was always dangerous. People always ask questions like „Who hated them“ or „Who did they have an argument with“ first and friends and family would almost always be questioned first. Getting rid of someone you have never heard of, on the other hand, was significantly easier. There was usually no discernible motive and no-one would even link you to anything at all. Quietly stabbing the poor kitchen-boy had been easy and was unlikely to lead to any consequences for Mitaka personally.

Equipped with his new servant-outfit Mitaka made his way into the main party area, careful not to draw attention to himself. That was difficult enough. His outfit was equipped with a short skirt that shuffled with each step he took, making it practically impossible to sneak up on someone. After walking around for a bit, Dopheld finally spotted Rafkin amidst a group of fellow Lieutenants.

He tried to make his way to them while not appearing to do so. The hall was relatively big with many pillars holding up the ceiling, with in turn held a giant crystalline chandelier. The chandelier hung low enough that you could be able to climb onto it from the balconies of the second floor, Mitaka noted.

He hid behind a pillar and pulled out the box containing the deadly substances. Carefully, Mitaka poured its contents evenly into the glasses on the tray he was holding. He was not going to risk the success of his plan by risking that Rafkin might choose a glass that wasn’t spiked. He tucked the box back into his outfit and turned to serve the glasses to his unsuspecting victims, when-

“There you are! What do you think you’re doing here?“

Mitaka spun around on his heels, barely managing to keep the drinks inside the glasses. In front of him stood who appeared to be the manager of the venue, looking mad.

“You’re being requested on floor Dorn. Move your ass!“

Mitaka tried to hide his face as best as he could. The last thing he needed was someone able to identify him. “Um, I’m sorry, I’ll just finish serving this round and then I’ll be right on my way!“

The manager snatched the tablet out of his hands and hissed at him. “Someone else can do that. Get up there now!“

Mitaka flinched. This was not part of his plan. “Of course, I’ll- I’ll be on my way.“

He hurried towards the staircase at the end of the hall. What now? He wasn’t able to make sure Rafkin drank one of the spiked drinks anymore. He needed a new plan. Fast.

Mitaka went up the first set of stairs to the balcony to take a better look at the party and its guests. The manager had put the tray to the side and was now urgently talking with someone else. That was good. He might still be able to get the drinks back.

Mitaka examined the rest of the guests. The group around Rafkin was by far the loudest, making it hard to understand anything anyone else might have said. He was able to fully see every guard better from where he stood now, though. There were three exits total, two of which were guarded, the third led to the garden.

His gaze drifted back to the tray with the spiked drinks to groan out in frustration. Someone had grabbed a couple of drinks off of it and was carrying them across the room.

 _Kriff_.

This was definitely not going according to plan. Out of the corner of his eye he was just able to see the manager and the person he was talking to leave through on of the exits.

Mitaka quickly made his way back downstairs just in time to see another person leave with the rest of the glasses and disappear into the crowd.

 ** _Kriff_**.

This was bad. This was really bad. He couldn’t just go over and stab the guy, everyone would see!

“Hey!“

_Not again._

”What are you still doing here?“ The manager stomped towards him looking as if he was about to explode. “Haven’t I told you you were to go to floor Dorn?“

“Well yes, I-“

A loud crash interrupted Dopheld. The chandelier had been brought down into the centre of the dance floor and was now splintering in all directions. The people closest to it were cowering away to protect their faces as well as possible while most other guests had skidded away, closer to the corners of the room.

Mitaka used the commotion to slip away from the manager and out the garden door. The reason this door didn’t have any guards was because the fences of the garden were so increadibly high that none were required. Rendering it nearly impossible to get into the garden from the outside. Getting out of the garden, however was not something that looked all too difficult. There were plenty of high objects placed all around the garden.

Mitaka sprinted to the corner closest to him which also sported a water barrel. He climbed on top of it and was now able to grab the roof of a long garden house. Dopheld pulled himself on top of it and crawled, as quickly as possible, to its other side. Once there he stood to his full height and pressed himself flat to the fence, trying to stay out of view. He turned around and carefully placed his fingers between the little spikes on top of the fence. This would hurt if he wasn’t careful. Mitaka pulled himself up while simultaneously jumping. In one swift movement he was over the fence and falling down on its other side.

Since there was no garden house on this side, his fall was much longer than he expected. “Oof!” Mitaka hit the floor ungracefully and could have sworn he damaged something. Nearing ISB sirens, on the other hand, motivated him to get up and out of there as quickly as possible. _What a disaster..._

Mitaka almost didn’t have the strength to get out go bed the next morning. Mentally and physically. Every part of his body ached and he felt 20 years older. The debacle of last night’s events still fresh in his mind he made his way to his temporary kitchen. The holoradio had turned itself on, per usual, and was now playing the news.

“...ISB busted party of...”

Mitaka set up a pot of tea. He still needed to come up with a way to ensure Rafkin was out of his way. Perhaps a slice of bread held his answers?

“...previously noticed suspicious behaviour...”

He wasn’t going to find an opportunity like that again.

“…now facing several charges for drug owning and contribution…“

The bread didn’t seem to help either.

“…Rafkin household to be searched for evidence…“

Wait what? Mitaka listened back into the holonews.

“His trial is awaited to be tomorrow. This rather short eviction is caused by an upcoming application-deadline of his.“

The slice of bread fell out of Dopheld’s mouth. Apparently he was going to get another opportunity like that.

The plan was simple: get in, hide the killerstick containers for the investigation team to find, get out. And unlike last time, he at least had an idea of what the interior looked like. That was certainly an advantage.

Mitaka tried not to snicker while strolling up to the Rafkin mansion. He couldn’t help but draw connections from his current outfit to bank robbers in old, bad holomovies. He was wearing nothing but black clothes and had a mask in his also black backpack, should the need for one arise.

A single ISB speeder was parked in front of the house, making it quite easy to sneak past the one officer standing next to it. Keeping to the shadows, Mitaka snuck up to the front gate and got inside once the officer was facing the other direction.

Inside, the investigation was in full swing. Officers and agents were questioning family members, guests and staff. Mitaka again kept to the side, drawing as little attention to himself as possible. Where to put the sticks? It would have to be a place where they would definitely be found, yet if the placements were too obvious, someone might question why they hadn’t found them earlier.

While walking by the remnants of the chandelier, he took one of the flasks into his hand and let it slowly roll down his leg, where he managed to catch it on his foot and carefully let it sink to the floor amidst the other glass shards.

Hoping the sound of the rolling container didn’t alert anyone, he strolled over to the spot where the manager had put down the tray last night. A couple of uncleaned glasses were still standing on top of the small table. Mitaka swiftly put three flasks inside the glasses in the back and then made his way towards the staircase leading up to the balcony. He placed another flask in the corner below the second step and was about to make his way up the short set of stairs when he heard voices from upstairs, approaching.

Mitaka spun around and fled back into the hall. He had to get away from the stairs before whoever was up there came down. But he couldn’t run, as that would draw too much attention to himself. The closest exit was - again - the garden. Outside there was a single investigator sweeping the plants and flowers. Mitaka hurried over to his escape route of yesterday, contemplating. There was no way he would make it outside without being heard by the investigator. Instead of taking that route out, he put the rest of his sticks onto the barrel and fled back inside.

Where he promptly froze yet again. As it turned out, one of the people from upstairs was the Commander who was supposed to decide who got the job. If he saw Mitaka, it was over. Everything would have been for nothing. Keeping a careful eye on him the the person he was talking to - a slim ginger in serious need for some coffee - Mitaka strolled around the investigators and towards the exit.

Much to his dismay, a second speeder had arrived and there were now three officers standing in front of the gate. In moments like these his grandmother used to say “If you don’t belong in a hotel, pretend you do! Who’s going to stop you?” Mitaka wasn’t sure, wether that applied here, but he was definitely going to try! He took a deep breath.

_Confidence, Dopheld!_

And walked straight towards the exit. “Good Morning!” The officers turned to him. Moment of truth. “Morning! Need us to take you somewhere?” “No thank you, have a great day, though!” “Thanks, you too!” A wave of relieve washed over Mitaka as he rounded the next corner. _Phew._

The next morning saw Dopheld Mitaka in a much calmer state. He new his stunt would work and couldn’t wait to find out all about it. Tuning into the holonews while sipping his still too hot tea, Mitaka smiled to himself.

“...damning evidence found at...”

All those years of training. Of waiting. He was going to get his price.

“...not yet convicted, though unlikely to be released within...”

People were going to see him for who he was. Truly was. They were going to respect him.

“...Rafkin Jr to be held for further interrogations...”

And he worked for this himself. No one helped him. He did this.

“...putting an early stop to his young career...”

_I did this all by myself._

“Again, congratulations, Lieutenant.“ The Commander waved him out of the door of his office. “Your first shift begins in 5 hours, don’t be late.“

“Yes sir.“

Mitaka existed the office swiftly only to bump into a stormtrooper on his way around the next corner. He was about to speak up when he noticed the unnatural colouring of the armour. Mitaka had, of course, heard of Captain Phasma and her supposed authority. _How much authority can a_ Captain _have, anyway?_ “Apologies, Captain“ he said swiftly. Wether the woman in front of him could be a threat to his career or not, he didn’t intent on making her his enemy.

Captain Phasma’s helmet was facing him. Was she inspecting him or was he simply in her direction of viewing?

“Quite impressive.“ Mitaka nearly jumped when she spoke.

“Thank you, Captain. I will continue to do my best for the First Order.“

The Captain considered him a moment longer. Something about it was truly unnerving. Not being able to tell her expression at all made Mitaka slowly understand why people respected her. Luckily, she went past him to continue her shift.

“You look quite cute in a kitchen outfit.“ Mitaka froze. How did she-

“We will continue to watch your progress with great interest.“ Dopheld’s brain froze. We? Who was watching? How did they know? Question after question filled his mind, until - a sudden boost of confidence. Let them watch. Maybe someone would finally truly see him then. And respect him. Like he deserved.


	2. The fanart (sort of)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So while writing this image popped into my head and I thought - what fits better to bad writing than a bad drawing? (Name a more iconic duo)  
> So now you’re also getting this.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is what happens if you put “super competent bad-ass Mitaka” in your prompt. I just go overboard and under board at the same time. I find the idea funny though, that he is super competent in whatever it is he is doing, but his social skills are lacking to the point of it almost endangering his mission. Also: being unnoticed is a superpower now? Idk, seems like he has it.


End file.
